The Filth
by Grant Morrison (illustrated by Chris Weston with Gary Erskine)

We are born to bury the smashed bodies and cremate the bloody abortions of this world, so no sensitive human pig has to be sick at the sight of them.

I hesitate to recommend The Filth, particularly to those unfamiliar with the voice of Grant Morrison. Its ideas and philosophies are strange and bendy. They assume you've already listened to what Grant's had to say in his previous works. It's a book that relies on your already being up to speed on theories of time, metafiction, politics and history. Strap in, The Filth will take you farther.

It's an aptly-named book, too. The foul and putrid are laid out plainly for all to see. We're left to consider the product of our own sicknesses and perversions, what they mean and what they make of us.

Greg Feely, porn-hound and cat-owner, discovers the secret of his past: he is Ned Slade, agent of The Hand (a secret, day-glo organization established to dispose of the physical and psychological refuse of the world). From civilizations that thrive on a pinpoint to the perils of the giant pornography landfill, Morrison throws you in head first, rarely allowing you a moment to come up for air. Is Greg Ned or is Ned Greg? I still don't know and I've read it twice.

Looking forward to a third go at it, though.

Content Rating: R (Language, sex, violence)

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